


Favourite Record

by savingprivatesimmons (black_twosugars)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_twosugars/pseuds/savingprivatesimmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he drives through the night with the rest of the crew sleeping, Ryan admires the view of both the picturesque landscape beyond the windscreen and the sleeping mob boss in his passenger seat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favourite Record

**Author's Note:**

> I did my last exam yesterday so I’m posting this to celebrate! Now that I’m finally free of college (until I start university in September) I have so much more free time so definitely expect a lot more fics from me ;)

Flexing his fingers on the steering wheel of the minivan, Ryan sighed and cast a quick glance in the rear-view mirror. The lads had called dibs on the three seats in the middle of the eight-seater; Michael sat in the middle, Gavin to his left and Ray to his right, their headphones still in their ears and connected to Ray’s iPod. The small device sat on Michael’s lap alongside their three-way earphone splitter, the joys of their sing-a-longs long forgotten as they slept peacefully. Ryan could faintly hear some lame, overplayed pop song, although it was too muffled and soft for him to decipher exactly which song it was.

Jack, ever the workaholic, had taken the backseat alongside Lindsay and had immediately perched his laptop on his knees. “I’m just quickly double-checking something,” he had insisted, but then spent the next few hours on the damn thing before he’d fallen into a light sleep, his head leaning against the window. Lindsay smiled at him before leaning over to tuck her jacket under his head and slip his laptop back into its bag. She dozed off soon after, using Jack’s arm as a pillow.

Geoff had been the last to sleep. He’d been listening to the radio – Channel X being his favourite – until it started to play _Welcome to the Black Parade_ and Ryan had turned it off just to ensure his boss didn’t start crying in the passenger seat. He’d barely heard the first note before dramatically placing a clenched fist over his own heart and closing his eyes. Geoff had pouted and lightly smacked Ryan on the arm to chastise him, but didn’t make a move to turn the radio back on when Ryan nodded in a gesture over his shoulder.

Geoff took one glance at his sleeping crew and the childish pout slipped from his face, a fond smile replacing it. Ryan was strangely reminded of a proud parent smiling at their children after tucking them safely into bed, but he hadn’t dared to voice his thought lest he wanted to lose a few fingers.

Now, however, Geoff had his arms crossed over his chest and his feet kicked up on the dash – Ryan had given up on scolding him – and he’d long since fallen asleep. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for once in the entire time Ryan had known him, Geoff actually looked calm.

In fact, scratch that though, Geoff looked  _peaceful_.

It was incredible for Ryan to see a man so often found tense, stiff movements and a perpetual scowl on his face, to have no emotion written upon his oh so expressive features. Whether he wore bags under his eyes like it was the latest fashion or an infuriated furrow of his brow as if the number of wrinkles on his forehead would be the sole reason whoever had annoyed him would never do so again, Geoff was always so high-strung and full-on.

When he wriggled his nose and sniffed softly in his slumber, Ryan fought hard not to giggle at the sight which he quite frankly found adorable. It was an endearing sight to behold, really. He spent a few seconds wishing he had his camera before he remembered that Geoff would probably slaughter him if there was photographic evidence that the most dangerous man in all of San Andreas didn’t actually sleep with his patent scowl on his face.

Ryan was dragged out of his own freight train of thoughts when a small red warning light flashed next to the speedometer for a few moments before turning into a tiny, LED gas pump. He sighed and actually bothered to pay attention to the next directions sign he passed on the practically desolate highway he had been driving down for the past few hours.

Luckily the next gas station was only a few miles away from their current position. The other Fake AH Crew members would be far too lethargic and groggy with sleep to push the van if it came to that – which, thankfully, it didn’t.

The occasional hazy orange streetlights turned into more frequent and better-maintained ones before Ryan caught a glimpse of the neon crimson sign in the distance and headed for it. After pulling up next to one of the pumps, Ryan switched off the ignition and clicked open his door, but was stopped when he heard a yawn from the passenger seat.

Geoff took a good few seconds stretching his arms in front of him and groaning when he heard a click from his back, but then he sat up and glanced at Ryan with slightly glazed-over half-open eyes and a moderately disorientated expression.

“Watcha doin’?” He muttered, tiredness slurring his words.

“I’ve just stopped for gas,” Ryan explained, picking up his wallet from the car door pocket and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Wanna buy me a beer?” Geoff requested with a sleepy smile. “And get a few Red Bulls and water bottles and snacks for when the others wake up.”

Ryan laughed once before nodding. “Sure,” he said before closing his car door and setting to work on filling the car’s tank with gas. He rocked back and forth on his feet, grateful for the short break.

He loved driving – in another life he could have been a delivery driver of some kind – it was relaxing and he’d always loved watching the scenery fly past him as he edged his foot further down on the accelerator. Tonight was particularly enjoyable, simply because they’d set off just before sunset and by the time the blues of the sky had been drowned by the orange and yellow waves of the slowly setting sun, Ryan had reached the highway. He got to watch the picturesque concoction of fiery colours slowly melt from bright yellows to deep crimsons before disintegrating into the black abyss of the night sky.

As he stood filling the tank of the van, Ryan cast his gaze past his parked car and out across the deserted, sandy landscape. Where the land met the sky in an uneven horizon, he could see a few specks of stars in the sky. The haze and glow of the small gas station and the streetlights obscured most of the finer details, but it was still a view to behold.

After completely filling the tank, Ryan then headed into the small convenience store to grab the drinks Geoff had asked for along with a Diet Coke for himself and a few granola bars and bags of crisps as snacks for later. Then he calmly handed over some cash to the checkout lady when paying for his purchases.

Any other day he would have pointed his pistol at the cashier and forced the poor lady to hand over everything in the cash register, but five out of the seven crew members were happily asleep in that van so of course Ryan was going to pretend to be a normal human being for once. Tonight he wasn’t the Vagabond, ruthless and cold-hearted killer, he was just Ryan.

After getting back into the car, he handed Geoff the shopping bag and settled back into the driver’s seat.

“You ready?” Geoff asked, twisting open his bottle of beer, awaiting Ryan’s reply before taking a long swig.

“Yep,” Ryan affirmed, switching on the ignition and slowly pulling away from the station as to not disturb his sleeping passengers.

Geoff savoured the first sip of beer, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he closed his eyes. “How did you know that this is one of my favourites?”

Honestly, Ryan had bought it on impulse. He’d recognised the label as one of the select few that Geoff seldom let anyone else drink – not even Gavin was allowed into his stash – and had picked it up without a second thought.

“It’s hard to hang out with someone on an almost daily basis and  _not_  know their favourite drinks.” Ryan replied with a smirk.

“Oh really?” Geoff queried, quirking an eyebrow and turning to face Ryan. “What’s Gavin’s favourite beer?”

“Uhh…” Ryan hesitated as he tried to think of the answer. “Is that a trick question? Because I could’a sworn that he’d bleed Red Bull if you cut him open.”

“Nope.” Geoff shook his head. “Not a trick question. Gavin has a favourite beer.”

“Then I have no goddamn clue,” Ryan shrugged, fixing his gaze on the road rather than letting his own face heat up under Geoff’s scrutinising stare.

“It’s Pißwasser,” Geoff stated as if the answer should have been obvious. “His taste in beer is shit, which is why I never let him near my private fridge. He wouldn’t appreciate it enough.” He drank from his bottle again, swallowing slowly and continuing to savour the taste. Geoff had always valued his alcohol, though, so this was no surprise.

Ryan nodded in agreement before staying silent and hoping that the subject would be dropped. If he was honest, Ryan didn’t even  _know_  why he knew Geoff’s favourite beer. Thinking about it, he didn’t even know Michael’s. Or Lindsay’s. Or Jack’s. The information he had stored in his brain about Geoff was far larger and more extensive than any of the information he had about any of the other crew members.

Sure, he knew that Geoff’s favourite colour was orange – even if the crew’s signature colour was green – and sure he knew that Geoff always had a bottle of Forty Creek whisky imported from Canada hidden in his desk, and sure he knew that Geoff secretly had a huge affinity for Bull Terriers because he’d owned one as a kid. But that didn’t  _mean_  anything, right?

It just meant that he paid a lot of attention to Geoff. He was his boss, after all, therefore wasn’t that expected?

But then Geoff turned on the radio (ensuring the volume was low first, of course) and began humming along to the tune of some pop punk song Ryan had long forgotten the words to. He sipped his beer in the guitar solos, and looked over at Ryan with the gentlest of soft smiles on his face, maintaining eye contact for a few moments before glancing out the front window. He lost himself as he watched the scenery come and go as they kept moving forward.

Meanwhile, Ryan decided that he had no patience for inner turmoil; especially not when he could enjoy the relaxed ambience of their companionable, mutual silence. There was an unmistakable hint of something else in the beer-scented air of the car, but Ryan didn’t care. Instead, he brazenly luxuriated in the way Geoff presented himself as the epitome of carefree, and grinned back at him, uncaring that Geoff wasn’t looking.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr at [savingprivatesimmons](http://savingprivatesimmons.tumblr.com/)!!


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